


Linger

by eddi



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Fluff, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pesterlog(s) (Homestuck), Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Resurrection, Strider Manpain, Work In Progress, and, author experiments with various amounts of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-14 05:44:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14763741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eddi/pseuds/eddi
Summary: Your name is Dave Strider, and your dead brother just sent you an instant message.It happens out of nowhere. Middle of the night, just before you were ready to close your eyes, your screen lights up.TT: We need to talk.





	1. Chapter 1

Your name is Dave Strider and your dead brother just sent you an instant message. It happens out of nowhere. Middle of the night, just before you’re ready to close your eyes, your screen lights up.

\-- taciturnThearch [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 01:47 --  
TT: We need to talk. 

Reality bends. The constant internal metronome drops to half-time, seconds slowing, brain blanking. Denial seeps in off the bat, probably to keep your psyche from cracking. Good ole defense mechanisms. There’s no way. Your brother died in that fucking game years ago. Damn near the beginning of it all. He’s gone. The message has to be nothing more than a fucked-up joke that you probably need to nip in the bud.

He isn’t on your chumroll, anyway. Never was, even before all this. Granted, you have your comics and shit hosted online, and he probably could’ve found your contact info as easily as looking over your shoulder now and again, but you both had certain boundaries that did not cross. If you needed to speak to him, you left a note. Or you just didn’t speak to him. It was a simple kind of existence.

TT: We need to talk.

Maybe it’s one of those bots made from people’s old social media accounts. Not that your brother used that shit. But it’s a possibility. For fuck’s sake, it’s not like ghosts are a thing to exist in this new verse.

TT: We need to talk.

Then again, the user seems to just be spamming the same phrase. Weird that it would go through the effort of faking the “user is typing” thing but.

TT: You’re online. Don’t avoid me.   
\-- turntechGodhead [TG] blocked taciturnThearch  [TT] at 01:57 --

The guy’s dead, you tell yourself, there’s no reason to react like that to some fucking bot. It had to be faked, obviously. Bro doesn’t exist anymore. Dirk’s the closest thing you’ve got and in all honesty, he’s a fucking proof of nature and nurture: vastly unlike your bro in how he treats you, regardless of their clone DNA. 

You get up for a glass of water. Pass by Dirk’s bedroom door to use the toilet. Come back to the phone to write your roomie a message or two, trying your best not to sound too shook. 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] at 02:10 --  
TG: hey just a heads up this chat bot youve got is great and all but im not exactly the best sounding board for this kind of shit  
TG: you know who is though  
TG: your pal roxy is though  
TG: she is absolutely a surface upon which you can bounce your intellect off and have it reverberate three times as strong like an amplifier set to 11  
TG: loud as fuck and a little distorted but that shit didnt stop metallica from existing why should it stop you from testing your chat pal on your mensa buddies you feel me  
TG: im but a lowly pleb in the field of brains  
TG: all i know is wheat and corn and you got me harvesting fucking cerebellums and shit  
TG: cerebellums or cerebella?  
TG: see you hired the worst guy for the goddamn job whatre you even paying me i didnt even graduate eighth grade bro  
TG: you know whats worse i dont think you even grew up with school as an existing concept so im more formally educated than you yet i dont get how this bot of my bro is supposed to be useful to you 

Through the wall, you hear the soft chiming of his alert tone from each message. You hold your breath, seeing Dirk’s handle light up, typing animation looping a few times.

TT: What bot are you talking about. 

It’s difficult for you to grasp so easily that Dirk might not be vague intentionally. Since you guys started rooming together, it’s been a learning process on both ends. You screencap the conversation with your alleged Bro and drop it in the chat box.

TG: this one  
TG: see how it conveys urgency with the automated script  
TG: uncanny as hell  
TG: the only logical conclusion is that youve been tinkering with friend fiction and ai personalities  
TG: which i gotta be real is a little bit weird but not something id necessarily put past you  
TG: you and i both know youve got little in the way of social grace and shit but id have thought thered be at least a sliver of couth with the whole alternate you made my young years an essential living nightmare and that you wouldnt spring some shit like this on me in the middle of the night when a guy is statistically the most vulnerable and open to persuasion  
TG: no need for apologies or anything i already forgive you but like  
TG: id like to officially tap out of this experiment pls and thnx  
TG: uncle  
TG: safeword  
TG: red light  
TG: no mas

While you’re typing up “do not pass go do not collect two hundred dollars”, Dirk replies, having finally downloaded your screenshot.

TT: Dave, I didn’t set any bots up.

The pit of your stomach drops out, time started to slow down again like the dawning of realization in a Shyamalan twist. You tighten your jaw, stare at his words, try to process them to little avail.

TG: haha yeah real funny  
TG: im not mad or anything like its all kosher  
TG: damn near ready for yom kippur  
TG: were family its all gravy    
I haven’t done anything with anything close to that kind of AI in a couple years. Not after the whole fiasco with the AR.   
TT: If you want, I’ll dig around and see where it came from. Can’t guarantee it’ll be soon, though.

You chew at a hangnail on your thumb, brain wrapped in sludge. If Dirk didn’t do it, he’s at the very least the most competent person to figure out who did. 

TG: you got it bro

 

*

 

You don’t remember falling asleep that night, but you woke up to two missed calls from an unknown number and three messages from the different numbers. 

832-551-3903: We need to talk.  
713-788-3157: We need to talk.  
713-609-9485: We need to talk.

Numb, you erase everything. Swipe him out of existence again. There’s nothing for him here. He has no reason to be here. It’s a joke. A stupid fucking prank. Nobody’s laughing. Nothing’s funny. But it’s the only thing that actually makes any goddamn sense.

As you debate taking a sleep aid to knock out for another few hours, your phone buzzes in your hand from another UNKNOWN. You reject the call on instinct, drop the phone on your bed, and pull the sheets up and over your head. After several beats your phone vibrates again. You fish it back to where you can see, hoping maybe Dirk has shitty comedic timing.

A voicemail. 

You’d be lying if you said you don’t swallow a mouthful of vomit back down. 

Tax collectors. Robo calls. Scam artists. Could be a million and one things calling. It doesn’t have to be your dead Bro. Hell, maybe it’s a crank call. Do people even do those anymore? John would, but what are the chances?

Fueled by the new possibility, you tap the icon to dial up the voicemail. A moment of hesitation and a voice comes through, low and slow, vowels just a little too long. 

“It’s me. Get in touch. Important shit to discuss.”

It’s him. Jesus shitting fuck Christ. You stand there with the voicemail prompt looping through the options to repeat save and delete. 

You hear your phone hit the wall before you realize you’ve flung it away from you. You fall back into the foggy slow motion, wave after wave of “what the fuck” collapsing over you. This can't be fucking real. This has to be one of those dream sequences where you’re actually passed out in Kansas all along. 

You pick your phone back up again and end the call. There has to be some kind of shenanigans afoot. 

Maybe you’re legit losing your mind. Is it like the anniversary of his death or something? Do you need further rooting into your psyche? Did all of the psychological torment and torture you endured finally catch up to you and break your brain? If you’re going nuts, then indulging in this would result in some bad shit. Probably for the best to out-logic when you can. 

Now is not then. 

Now’s the time to put back up the walls and facade that had taken literal years to pull down. It hadn't been easy to reverse condition yourself to believe you were allowed to emote. And here's Bro fucking it all up. Irony. Like actual irony.

You put your shades on and leave your room, leaving your phone behind. You can manage to exist without it for a few minutes. 

Dirk’s in the kitchen, eating cereal, staring at something on his shades. 

Weird from time to time how much he looks like your brother. Which makes sense obviously; he’s a perfect genetic clone of his after all. He is your brother, just less of a dick and a little shyer. Plus, he held little to no contempt for you. When you first met, you thought Dirk might have been shorter than him, but quickly realized that the last time you saw your brother was right on the cusp of puberty, before your first major growth spurt. You’re more than a couple inches taller than Dirk, and he's lankier than Bro. Probably something to do with the end of adolescence and insane metabolic spikes. Maybe in a few years he’ll broaden out.

“How’d you sleep.” Another small blessing: he doesn't really sound like Bro. Dirk's speech lacks a certain melody in pace.

“Fine.” You grab a Pop-Tart and pour a glass of apple juice.

Dirk doesn’t let on whether he believes you. “Your mystery impersonator doesn’t seem to want to be found. Anything I try to trace just bounces back another dead end. Seems a little excessive for spam, though. Definitely an actual person working that shit.”

You hum to acknowledge him, picking at your food. 

“Any other weird messages lately? Maybe you’re earned someone’s ire.” 

It’s a stupid suggestion, but you keep that to yourself. You guys have been hiding out, taking a break from your respective kingdoms. Neither of you have left the apartment much. Dirk’s been working. You’ve been introspecting. What you’re getting at is there hasn’t been time to earn any ire or even be a regular at a Chinese place. 

“Not like I know a million super geniuses.” You pause, fiddling with the Pop-Tart wrapper. “...he started blowing up my phone with calls.”

Dirk’s gaze went to you and stayed there, no longer enamored in his tech. “Who did?”

“The guy apparently trying to be Bro. The one who is most definitely not Bro. Since Bro is completely fucking unalive and has been.”

“Did you answer?”

“Fuck no, I didn’t answer.” You chew quietly, not looking at him now. It’s damn difficult to look aloof without a way to distract yourself. “He left a message, though.”

There’s a long pause. You fill him in with bare minimum, leaving out the uncanny resemblance the voice had to Bro’s and also ignoring how fucked up it’s got you. It’s not that you don’t trust Dirk, you just don’t trust the situation. 

“Can I see your phone for a minute.” 

With half the first dry pastry in your face, you are able to bite back any digs about Dirk pilfering for spank bank material in your personal data, though you aren’t sure why you get so defensive about the suggestion. Rather than say anything, you just unlock the phone and slide it across the table. Sip at some of your juice. 

Dirk looks at the messages, looks at you, looks back at your phone.

“Did you delete the voicemail?”

You shake your head. He dials it up, leaves it on speaker, hitting the corresponding key to replay saved messages. Your stomach drops again at the gravel of you Bro’s voice coming through again,

_“It’s me. Get in touch. Important shit to discuss.”_

You suddenly feel light headed, but don’t say a word. You just sit there and finish what you’re eating, holding your hand out for your phone again. You can’t see Dirk’s face but you can tell he’s tense, too.

“Is that what he sounds like?”

Hearing their voices back to back, now the resemblance is much stronger. Fuck, that’s too weird. You rake your fingers through your hair, muttering, “Close enough to how I remember it, yeah.”

“That doesn’t exactly seem—”

“Doesn’t seem possible? No shit, man. The statistical probability is pretty fuckin’ low, I’d say. Much like the odds of you even existing and the odds of us making it through that gauntlet rather than being one of the billions of bad ends in that game. At this point, I’m considering that perhaps we’re having some kinda shared psychotic episode. Maybe you’ve got some actual split personality shit going on and just can’t remember you’re fucking with me. That actually seems like one of the more likely options here and—”

“You watch too many movies.” Dirk offers your phone back, takes your empty wrapper and gets up to deal with the breakfast mess.


	2. Chapter 2

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 14:12 --  
TG: hows the interspecies babymaking coming along  
TG: still not sure how all thats supposed to work out what with you and your alien wife and all  
TT: We’ve made incredible strides in the field, in fact.   
TT: Although I’ll admit it’s hardly coming together as quickly as anyone would like it to.  
TT: The main holdup is the inability of our own biological situations to carry the young of the other.  
TG: were slowly sliding into territories im not necessarily sure i wanna go down with you   
TG: namely your physical maternal desires  
TG: theres this hot thing called kinkshaming and while its really taken off on the internet id rather not have to get to that point with you  
TT: Don’t be silly.   
TT: It’s Kanaya’s kink, not mine.   
TG: cue the pregnant alien fetish parade  
TT: I’ll be the master of ceremonies.   
TG: sorry rose thats literally illegal ill take the mc from here you go hold hands with your breeding kink wife  
TT: You never let me be the MC. How will I ever keep hip with the youth?  
TG: you only want to be the mc because youve got a pretention fetish  
TG: ive seen you at your goofiest lets not kid ourselves here  
TT: This is an unfortunate truth you’re spittin’.  
TG: god please don’t  
TT: Acting as though our roles are pre-written.  
TG: rose youre typing so slow this is so embarrassing   
TT: I am but a fake, a charlatan, a fraud,  
TG: oh my god youre not even rapping youre just writing shitty goth poetry rose stop   
TT: For all that I thought, I’m naught but a flighty broad.  
TG: are you done  
TT: I thought that was pretty good, personally.  
TG: you would  
TG: that was almost as bad as your harry potter fic  
TT: Harry Potter doesn’t exist in this universe. My preteen fantasies don’t exist in this universe. There is nothing in this universe that was not intentional. My name is Rose Lalonde, and I am pure of childhood embarrassment.   
TG: keep telling yourself that i actually almost believed you  
TT: You did not.  
TG: youre right i didnt youre full of shit  
TT: Writing My Immortal was a mistake.  
TG: rose you didn’t write my immortal don’t start fabricating shit  
TT: Are you so sure?  
TT: Do you not think me capable of composing such a masterpiece of shit?  
TT: Really, Dave. I’m hurt.  
TG: its against everything eleven year old you would believe in  
TT: It’s an excellent piece of satire.  
TG: its hot garbage full stop  
TG: the fact that we are in a literal new existence as separate from that shit as possible is probably for the better of our people  
TT: That’s where you’re wrong, Dave.  
TT: I have a handwritten copy.  
TG: youre full of actual horseshit  
TG: you have been dedicating the last couple years of your life to shoveling manure to the point that you no longer exist  
TG: all of your atoms have been replaced by equine feces  
TG: I cannot actually fathom that you are not in fact a sentient pile of pony poop  
TT: And here you were just moments ago complaining of my fetishes.  
TT: There’s always so much to unpack with every chat, brother mine.   
TG: yeah whatever  
TG: speaking of brothers  
TG: this is gonna be a little on the wild side so buckle up  
TT: How will I buckle with no arms?  
TT: Being a steaming pile of horseshit is so inconvenient.  
TG: the metaphors over now were getting into serious territory  
TT: Oh no.  
TG: oh yes  
TT: Has Dirk done something to upset you?  
TG: what no  
TT: I’ll admit I was a bit worried when you mentioned strengthening your relationship with him was only possible though cohabitation.  
TT: Your lack of correspondence has been only a little concerning.  
TT: But go on.  
TG: are you buckled  
TT: My lap restraint is securely fastened. Barf bag at the ready if I get a little queasy.  
TG: good   
TG: let me preface this with a question  
TG: your moms dead right  
TT: My mother or Roxy?  
TT: I should hope Roxy’s still alive. She was off tinkering in the labs with John about fifteen minutes ago.  
TT: Do you know something I don’t, keeper of the timelines?  
TG: lets get one thing straight roxy is our mom the lady who raised you from childhood and got her mack on with johns dad is your mom  
TT: Roxy has not given birth to anyone, nor has she directly been combined with anyone ectobiologically, since she’s her own clone. She is technically no one’s mother.  
TG: ANYWAY  
TT: My mother is still dead as a doornail.   
TT: Why?  
TG: are you a hundred percent sure on that  
TT: I’ve seen her dead body on Skaia.  
TT: Do you not recall the grimdark phase.  
TG: have you checked recently  
TT: I’m going to go ahead and inform you that this is still an incredibly sensitive topic.  
TG: yeah yeah i get it  
TT: Why are you asking, then.  
TG: cause like  
TG: this is a lil crazy like im not gonna lie to you i don’t even really believe this is happening but  
TG: my bro called me  
TT: ???  
TG: agreed  
TG: yeah I kinda threw the weirdest part of that at you  
TG: it started off with a ping on the good old pesterchum  
TG: and I was about ?  
TG: then I started getting a barrage of text messages  
TG: and it evolved to ??  
TG: then he called me from like a jillion different numbers and left a voicemail  
TT: ???????  
TG: im so glad you used seven question marks on that cause im still not over the time we had to spend with spiderbabe on the meteor  
TT: Have you spoken to anyone about this?  
TG: i mean yeah I talked to dirk  
TG: but he cant like trace where the calls and shit are coming from so im p sol I guess  
TT: And you’re sure it’s him?  
TG: would I really waste your fucking time on this  
TT: Excellent point.  
TT: Oh boy.  
TT: I didn’t fully fasten my seatbelt or hold onto my socks on that one.  
TG: god damn it rose I told you  
TT: I’ve survived thus far. Just a bump and a scratch.  
TG: I trusted you to be able to properly put yourself into your own restraint   
TG: this is why accidents happen at the state fair  
TT: I’ll count my lucky stars and thank the good lord above for that one.  
TT: I’ve been meaning to ask your thoughts on whether we are technically the higher power for ourselves or just for our universe.   
TT: Do you think there’s perhaps still a God for us?  
TG: its karkat obviously  
TT: Speaking of Karkat, how is he doing?  
TG: lets talk about that subject at a later time im kinda focused on the bro thing atm  
TT: I’ll hold you to it.  
TT: Our sessions have been so infrequent lately, I actually feel a little out of the loop.  
TG: youre not a real therapist rose  
TT: We’ll see about that.  
TT: So how did the chat with Bro go?  
TG: we didn’t chat  
TT: No?  
TG: hell nah  
TT: Has he said something offputting?  
TG: his existence is offputting  
TG: look me in the eye and tell me that if your mom popped up outta nowhere and started drunk texting you that you wouldn’t be losing your shit  
TT: I, unfortunately, cannot look you in the eye with you so far away.  
TT: You’ll have to pop in for a visit.  
TG: the point stands then  
TT: Perhaps you should indulge him long enough to communicate that you would like some space.   
TG: you want me to indulge a ghost  
TT: I think it might be helpful to signal that you’re not ready for a talk.   
TG: the ultimate catch 22  
TT: My dearest Yossarian, you will find a third option I’m sure.  
TT: In the meantime, have this:  
\--tentactleTherapist [TT] sent file: "myimmortalscans.zip"--  
TG: im not touching that

 

*

 

The harassment dies down for a few days. You’ve further withdrawn yourself from activities. Dirk’s taken to making improvised meals to leave on a TV tray outside your bedroom door. He’s been giving you space while you deal with your crisis of the week, but attempts to help in maintaining your nourishment. You’ve been living almost exclusively between your bedroom and the bathroom, which, given the smallness of the apartment anyway, is a little silly in the first place.

You’re on your phone browsing up what’s new in your kingdom before you hear the knock on the door. Maybe it’s pizza. That’d hit the goddamn spot right about now, wouldn’t it? Couple of greasy ass almost triangles? Yes please. You open your door just a little, just to peek down the hall to see the pizza transaction take place.

Instead, you see Dirk with his katana drawn, looking through the peephole. The knock happens again and your hand moves to your own sword leaning against the wall when the front opens, in case your not-Bro needs backup.

“…Ain’t gonna lie, that’s some trippy shit.”

Your gut drops. You can’t see him from here. But you can definitely hear him. Your fingers tighten on the pommel of your sword, but you don’t otherwise move. You’re stuck watching from the gap of your door, not able to make out a whole bunch other than Dirk, who’s got his arm braced on the doorframe, katana out of sight of him. “Dave doesn’t wanna talk to you. You should probably leave.”

“Much as I appreciate how precious it is that you’ve so neatly slotted yourself into a place you do not belong, Dirk, this doesn’t concern you.” The way he sounds annoyed with Dirk bothers you. It makes you angry, even. But you don’t reveal yourself, still. Content to observe from after. “And frankly, I don’t even wanna look at your sorry goddamn face.”

Dirk seems unfazed entirely by this surprise interaction. God, you’re jealous. If only you could also remove yourself emotionally from this situation. You move out of the doorway of your room to the hall. Sit on the floor to continue your eavesdropping from a better place to hear, even if you’re now listening blindly. You don’t need Bro to see you. God knows you don’t wanna see him, either. It might make this too goddamn real.

“That’s incredibly unfortunate. And also really telling that you despise yourself enough to not want to have to deal with any variations.” Dirk pauses for a moment, and you wonder if he’s keeping quiet so you wouldn’t hear. “Dave will talk to you when he wants to. And if he doesn’t, it would appear you’re fresh outta luck. Escalating this further isn’t going to be pretty. Might I suggest you make like a good deadbeat dead man and fuck off?”

A short laugh. Empty. Cold. Churns up your insides like a milkmaid at her butter station. “Trust me, kid. There’s been the utmost effort put into making like a lemming.”

“You will leave him alone. And if you don’t—”

“What’ll you do, hm?” You haven’t missed Bro’s condescending tone. Though you gotta be real. He does seem to be a lot wordier than you recall. “You gonna hand me my ass eight ways to Tuesday? Fuck my shit up in the most colossal way? Continue to stand there in your jammies trying to be threatening?”

Dirk begins his sentence again as though he hadn’t been interrupted, “If you don’t, he’s never going to talk to you.”

A few moments of silence. Another smarmy and nasty tone. “I see. You’ve now become an expert on all there is to know about my bro. In the short span of a couple years.”

“I, unlike you, make an active effort to listen to and respect people when I can.”

“You might have my face, dick for brains, but you don’t know jack fuckall about me.”

The katana clinks against something. The wall? The door? “You should leave. Last time I’m gonna say it.”

“There’s one thing I ain’t scared of, it’s you,” Bro growls.

Dirk continues on without any audible reaction or break in his voice, “It’s fortunate I’m not making efforts to scare you. Being threatening isn’t exactly my jam.”

“Do me a favor then.”

“Not sure you’ve done anything to earn anything close to that. But I’ll hear you out.”

“Tell him I love him. And tell him I’ll talk to him soon.”

*

The panic attack that follows lasts for what feels like hours. Weeks. You cannot keep track of the moments ticking by like you’re used to because the entirety of your body is seized up and shorting out. Every fiber is on fire and every sound that comes out of you wants to be a scream. None of it is rational, and it’s certainly not helping anything.

_“Tell him I love him.”_

It could be your hindsight bias from now knowing how neglectful and shitty Bro was as a guardian that prevents you from recalling a time he ever mentioned that he loved you. Maybe he said it once or twice when you were younger. Certainly not enough to warrant him just sliding it into casual conversation. 

Maybe it’s to get in your head. That’d be so like him, now that you think about it. He had to know you’d be listening. 

Dirk does his best to be as comforting as possible, but you can tell he’s still not exactly sure how to handle you at your worst like this. Eventually you wave him off in favor of retreating to your room again. He does not comment on how little you’ve left it in the past week, and you’re grateful for that. 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 19:01 --  
TG: hows it going in trolltopia  
TG: are the new batch of grubs bowing before their eldest and nubbiest god as appropriate  
CG: THE MOST RECENT WIGGLERS HAVE FINISHED THEIR FIRST PUPATION AND THE RITES OF ADOPTION ARE SET TO BEGIN IN THE COMING WEEKS.  
CG: WHICH IS TO SAY THEY ARE NOT HERE YET. APPARENTLY THERE WAS A SETBACK AT THE LAB.  
CG: WHY ARE YOU ASKING.  
CG: THIS IS NOTHING YOU EVER HAVE APPEARED TO CONCERN YOURSELF WITH.  
CG: THE FACT THAT YOU’VE BEEN MOPING AND HIDING IN YOUR COMMUNAL HIVE NOTWITHSTANDING.  
CG: ARE YOU DYING.  
TG: first pupation that’s a big deal  
TG: you got enough lusii and or adult sized parents to be to go around  
TG: how did we end up planning that out btw I cant remember for the life of me  
CG: THAT’S BECAUSE “WE” DIDN’T PLAN ANY OF IT. THIS WAS MAINLY BETWEEN ROSE AND KANAYA.   
CG: WITH INPUT FROM VARIOUS OTHERS AT VARIOUS POINTS.  
CG: I SEEM TO RECALL SOMEONE NOT WANTING ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOUNG OF EITHER OF THE SPECIES  
CG: OR ANYTHING TO DO WITH RESPONSIBILITY IN GENERAL.  
CG: JADE SAYS HI.  
TG: I say hi back  
TG: look you don’t have to be petty lets just shoot the shit about some random ass stuff like we did back in the good ole days  
TG: for instance have you seen that hilarious cooking show on one of the carapacian channels  
TG: cutest shit   
TG: so many goddamn pumpkins  
CG: SICKENINGLY ADORABLE GOURD-SWALLOWERS NOTWITHDSTANDING ILL BE PETTY AS LONG AS I PLEASE  
CG: MY FORMER HUMAN EQUIVALENT TO A MATESPRIT DECIDED THAT HE PITIED HIMSELF MORE THAN HIS PARTNER  
CG: AND I AM GOING TO CONTINUE TO HAVE SALT ABOUT IT  
TG: be salty  
CG: I AM  
CG: THAT’S WHAT I SAID  
TG: no you doof its not have salt its be salty  
CG: ITS ALL THE SAME, DAVE.  
CG: ITS ALL THE PRESENCE OF SOME SORT OF MYSTERIOUS ROCK YOU GRATE OVER FOOD TO IMPROVE THE FLAVOR AND DIMINISH THE HEALTH OF THE FOOD IN EQUAL AMOUNTS  
CG: EITHER WAY I WILL MAINTAIN I AM ALLOWED TO SALT MY FEELINGS  
CG: EVEN IF SAID SALT GETS INTO MY STILL UNHEALED WOUNDS  
TG: hey  
TG: karkat  
TG: karkat hey  
TG: listen  
TG: are you listening  
CG: NO  
TG: perfect look  
TG: weve known each other a while right  
CG: I LITERALLY CREATED YOUR EXISTENCE  
TG: so yeah a while  
TG: whens the last time we uh  
TG: jammed if you know what I mean  
CG: NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR SALICIOUS PROPOSITIONING, DAVE. I’M ENCUMBERED WITH WIGGLERS, A VERY BUSY TROLL INDEED.  
CG: AFTER BEING “GHOSTED” FOR SEVERAL CYCLES, LET ME JUST SAY, THAT THIS IS HARDLY ANYTHING I’M EVEN SLIGHTLY WILLING TO CONSIDER.  
TG: im talking pure platonic feelings jam sesh  
TG: cmon  
TG: karkat stop ignoring me  
TG: karkat  
TG: bro cmon answer me  
TG: im having a real time and theres some crazy shit going down  
TG: and I kinda feel like im losing any and all progress made on the emotional wellbeing front and its real sucky being alone with nobody really you can talk to that doesn’t make it weird and actually helps yknow  
CG: YOU.  
CG: HAVE SOME REAL FUCKING NERVE, STRIDER.  
CG: FUCK YOU.  
\-- carcinoGeneticist[CG] blocked turntechGodhead [TG]\--  
TG: karkat cmon  
\-- carcinoGeneticist[CG] did not receive message from turntechGodhead [TG]\--  
TG: god fucking  
TG: damn it 

*

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 19:19 --  
GG: hi dave!!  
GG: youre not gonna believe the cool stuff thats been cookin while you been gone good lookin   
GG: :P  
\-- turntechGodhead [TG] is an idle chum!   
GG: oh come on! >:( 


	3. Chapter 3

You do not retrace timelines. It was a vow made after Davesprite came about and you absolutely refuse to have anything like that go down again. No retconning any of this, no matter how much you kinda want to. But sometimes in spaces of lonesomeness you find yourself compelled to start it over. Even if this may lead to paradox. Granted, it has been a while since you felt like this.

Once more, you've cut yourself off, even from Dirk. Which is difficult when occupying the same 700 square foot space. He lets you alone, doesn't even try to speak to you. You've heard him in muttered conversations over the phone a time or two, and you can't help but think that he's concerned. You wonder if he's only doing this because he feels obligated. That maybe he thinks by abandoning you that he will further contribute to your downfall.

He's upgraded security from the front door, to each window, and to the hatch in the ceiling that leads to nothing. He's even employed the help of two of his bots to keep as sentries. While before he might have left you to go to the store, to see Jake, or just generally going about his own life, he has not left you. He's even set up camp in the living room. The contents of his room have been trickling slowly out as he spends more and more of his time there.

You should be a better person and tell him that it is okay, that you're fine, that nothing is going to happen, but you haven't managed to talk in several days. What's there to say?

Time has been slipping away from you. You aren't sure if it's just brain fog or if you're subconsciously skipping ahead seconds, minutes, hours. To make matters worse, the nightmares that plagued your childhood have come back with a furious vengeance. But now instead of being influenced by horrorterrors, it's just your own trauma, your own brain pitting itself against you. So for now, you've just taken to not doing any of that, clipping through the gaps where you're supposed to be getting a little shut eye. You're probably going to fuck something up by abusing your powers this way.

It's been a couple weeks since your bro first reached out by now. You're continuing to lay in bed, blinking through an hour at a time when suddenly you've opened your eyes and consciousness collides abruptly with,

"Dave, this is ridiculous!"

It knocks you off balance, sends your meditative skipping out of whack, and you stretch your stiff limbs. How long have you been lying there. How long has Jade been straddling your belly, staring at you. You look at her blankly. She pulls a face.

"Dirk said you've been moping the whole time you've been here and that it's killing him inside to see you so deep in the throes of flagrant wallowing. He called me in a tizzy, almost hysterical! Begged me to come see what you've been up to. Dramatically fell to his knees at the doorway when I came in and everything!"

For some reason you highly doubt that. You hope your expression conveys as much.

"... Okay you got me," she admits, "I hadn't heard from you, so I came by. And Dirk just kind of pointed me to your room and gave me a thumbs-up." Jade leans forward, butt in the air, now resting her arms on your chest and laying her head on them. Like a puppy waiting to pounce. "I'll say, though, I'm disappointed I didn't get an invite to the pity party. I could've ordered a cake from Jane and everything!" She gives her derriere a wiggle, tail contently wagging side-to-side in tandem. "You silly Striders and your angst-riddled extistences."

She's coming at you from all sides, and you're becoming painfully aware there's no reasoning with her. It's equal parts endearing and annoying. You lie there under her weight staring at her face and hoping it's over soon.

Frowning at you, as though Jade suddenly realized you weren't just being dramatic for the sake of drama, she quietly says, "...Dave?" 

A couple of bad tries later, you manage to croak, "What." You must be dehydrated. Your tongue feels cottony and gross. Your throat is distinctly not-lubricated. 

"...this is more than just boys and their emotional constipation isn't it?"

Rather than get into the entire goddamn rigamarole again about your Bro and everything, you just nod. Close your eyes for a moment. 

Jade cups both of your cheeks, and you peek at her. She gives your face a squish, still with a little smile pulling at her mouth even though it's now obvious you've made her worry. You hate making people worry about you. This sucks. And you suck.

"Is it still the whole Karkat thing? I really think you guys should just kiss and make up or whatever. It's been three months and both of you are--why are you shaking your. Oh. So not that? What else has been going on? Has Dirk been weird? He's generally kind of--not that either, huh." She draws in a breath, playing with your cheeks still, like you're made of putty. 

Despite how absurd you probably look, you kinda wish at least you could say something more to her. Guilt sits heavy in your chest. Haven't said a whole lot to her since you up and deuced out of the troll kingdom to stay with Dirk. Breaking your trio into bits. Jade finally quits playing with your face. Pets your hair back from your eyes.

"Well," she says rather gently, "do you wanna talk about it?"

And you shake your head again. If there's one thing you absolutely don't wanna do, it's continue to open your mouth and make noise.

Seeming satisfied with that--or respectful of it at the very least--Jade moves you both around the bed until she's lying behind you, big spooning it up. She rests her chin on your head and keeps you close.

"Well, whenever you're ready to talk about it, I'll be right here! Arm's reach away." Her legs tangle with yours, and it's now that you realize you've really kinda missed being all up in a snuggly pajama threesome with two of your closest friends. Why did you have to go and ruin it. 

Jade's warm against your back, and her arms are a comfortable pressure around you. She chitters away, voice lower, fingers brushing your skin now and again. She shifts only to now rest her forehead on the back of your neck. You sigh, skin to skin contact having been nil for months now. She even puts a kiss right at the tickly little hairs on your neck. The anxious vibration in your chest slowly eases, and you find yourself properly dozing off. 

*

When you wake again, you know it's late. You're not sure how many hours of sleep you finally took in, but the time now is absolutely 22:57. You no longer have arms around you, rather you've woken up with an arm around a lightly-sleeping Jade's middle. It's quiet, warm. Her hair smells nice. You haven't had anyone to wake up with since the whole shit with Karkat popped off and you ran away from your problems. 

Things don't feel quite complete, sharing your bed with only Jade. The ugly feelings deep in your soul and head try their best to needle and nag you. You pet Jade's hair, focusing on the physical contact. The slip of each strand through your fingers. The gentle rise and fall of her chest, your arm with it. After some time of this, enjoying the closeness of another human being to you, you carefully pull away. 

You haven't eaten since before yesterday. You had some water here and there, but you're so goddamn thirsty. Why did you do this to yourself? Idiot. It's a wonder you can even piss, that you haven't harbored calcium deposits in your urinary tract. You flush. Wash your hands. Brush your teeth for good measure. Maybe here in a bit, you'll take a shower. 

Maybe Jade will join you.

You nosh relatively quickly. Cup noodles for the pure calories and easiness. Make that two cup noodles. And half a gallon of water. Jesus. You're gonna make yourself sick, but your body is trying to make up for so much lost time. After getting some good sleep, and now having ate, you feel more clear-headed. More alert. 

The apartment is weirdly still, even with Jade in your room. Tossing your cups and rinsing your fork, you take a short few steps to look over the back of the couch. No Dirk. Few more steps to his actual room, where he's been spending significantly less time. The door's open a little, but you give a courtesy knock anyway before poking your head in. Still no Dirk. A couple beats pass, and everything feels just a little wrong. As if someone broke into your apartment and shifted everything slightly to the right. Not noticeable generally, but there's something so clearly and very Wrong. 

Jade still snores away when you get back into your room. You dig your phone out from between the mattress and the wall, a series of notifications blinking at you. You clear the several from Jade. The spam email. A Snapchat from Rose. 

Nothing from Dirk. Hell, nothing from your Bro either. Something has to have happened. Maybe Dirk went out to seek revenge or something. Maybe Bro cornered him on the way home from the store and demanded information.

What if he's dead.

What if they're both dead?

What if you're dying? That would explain the feeling like a great hand has squeezed around your ribs while another socks your heart to make it ache like it's a void. 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]  at 23:11 --   
TG: hey i just woke up from the most gnarly harley nap  
TG: and youre disappeared  
TG: you doin okay y/y  
TG: if youre dying bleat like a goat for me   
TG: and if youre alive just throw me a line  
TG: like a message in a bottle   
TG: that would be real tight  
TG: oh shit you know what would be way crazier  
TG: carrier pigeons  
TG: you could tie your fancy ass mini scroll to a pigeon and thrust her toward the wind and have her fly through bombs and war and shit until she gets to me  
TG: been shot at twice but shes still kickin ole girl  
TG: give her the congressional medal of honor  
TG: saving lives over here  
TG: connecting lives even  
TG: they make a biopic starring a similar pigeon  
TG: the opening theme and the promo music is how to save a life by the fray  
TG: thats how you know its gonna be epic they dont just play the fray for any ole flick  
TG: bet you its like a jillion bucks to license that shit  
TG: you even think about putting it in your shitty youtube amv the google police immediately arrest you for the thought crime of using a song you do not own  
TG: and youre sentenced to life because its the fray  
TG: srs  
TG: fckin  
TG: bsns  
TG: like okay i know we both know that i dont have exclusive rights to your person  
TG: much less your broship  
TG: just let me know youre good  
TG: ill wait no rush  
TT: I take it you slept well.  
TG: oh my god youre alive  
TT: Don't be so sure.   
TG: ...  
TT: Kidding.  
TT: Jane and I went to see a movie.   
TT: I think the troll flicks are starting to grow on me.  
TG: theyre their own personal brand of shitty b movie  
TG: theyre pretty solid from a critical standpoint  
TT: Solid like a brick.    
TG: so its been established that youre safe and now i can get back to my notgirlfriend engaging in notsnuggling  
TT: Sounds like a well-deserved break from thinking about the other thing.   
TG: kay so  
TG: you were a product of a totally different society  
TG: but do you happen to know what it means when i say "you just lost the game"  
TT: Is this a weird 90s thing.   
TG: origins unknown  
TG: basically it was this stupid pseudo philosophical thing like  
TG: the game can only be one by not thinking of the game  
TG: as soon as you think of the game you have lost  
TT: Schrodinger's game.  
TG: yeah basically  
TG: what you just did was the equivalent of some egomaniac freshman pushing his glasses up his sweaty face in the midst of losing a magic the gathering match to belch and utter  
TG: "fff. well. it doesnt matter cause YOU just lost THE GAME."  
TT: And here I was making an effort to spare your feelings by not naming the subject of your Bro completely.   
TT: Next time, I'll just be blatant. Fuck tip-toing.   
TT: Toeing?  
TG: tip toe wing in my jawwdinz?  
TT: You realize that Riff Raff held a cabinet position under the Juggalo presidents.  
TG: i hate your timeline  
TT: It was one doozy after another.   
TG: aint that just a mood encompassing my existence  
TT: Hate to be the pot calling the kettle black, but you're starting to dip a little into the melodrama.  
TT: Maybe you should go back to bed.  
TT: Maybe be a little adventurous with the apartment to yourself for the night.  
TG: whoa  
TG: back up  
TG: pump the brakes  
TG: toss that bitch in reverse  
TG: now cut a 180  
TG: did you just  
TG: try to suggest i bone my feelings away  
TG: cause thats sure as hell what it sounded like  
TG: and i cannot even imagine why this is advice you would give me  
TG: please dont say its from experience  
TG: oh this is worse than i thought  
TT: Who would I have ever had sex with.  
TT: Jake?  
TG: please stop its burning itself into the folds of my imagination  
TT: Go get your snuggle on.  
TT: Night.   
TG: yeah im gonna get right on that  
TG: night bro  
TG: <3 

*

You decide not to tell Jade about your Bro. Why ruin the moment. The picturesque moment of getting a little mack on between bouts of lazy lounging does not need to be fucked with. Things move a lot slower but in a much better way than the past few weeks. Every touch and sigh and giggle builds a layer over the constant anxiety that it's going to go to shit at any second. It isn't perfect, but it's an improvement.

For now, you're both lying on the roof, taking in the stars. It's been a hot while since you've been outside. The cool air on your face and Jade's cheek on your shoulder feels good in a way that you know you're not going to be able to replicate if you go back to Obi-Wanning it up in your room. She's got her right hand holding yours, pointing at various constellations and chatting away about how she thinks that the curve of Scorpius looks a little too much like a V and how she really thinks Karkat sold himself short with how you only can see his symbol if you're looking for it and 

"Have you talked to John lately?"

John? Thinking on it a couple minutes, you mutter, "Nah. Been busy finding myself."

Her fingers flex in yours. "He's been working on some super secret mission lately in the labs. Hasn't been answering anything from me. Figured _you'd_ have talk to him at the very least, being his bestest bro and all."

Now that she's got you thinking about it, you feel kinda down about that. Admittedly, you've really done a pretty shit job of keeping up with everybody. Even Jade. You say something to the effect of "I'm sure he's fine" and try to let it die there. 

Jade is not in the least about letting you euthanize the topic.

"I'm not so sure about that! I was getting used to _you_ ignoring me, but you've clearly been avoiding me so as not to rock the boat with Karkat. Which I completely respect and wish you the best of luck in that, even if it isn't going to accomplish anything but making both of you even more sad and dramatic." She's looking at your face, but you're not looking back. Still gazing the sky "But he's been so. Off. Since before his last birthday. Jane mentioned he stopped coming by to her dad's. Now that I think about it, he was kind of secluding and reclusive like you are now!"

Boy, that sours the back of your tongue. You can't exactly imagine John feeling this shitty as a baseline. It's almost impossible to picture. But the thought of it's got you sad as fuck. The warm fuzzies you've had while trying to ignore the impending emotional baggage have started to go a little less warm, a little more soggy. 

Jade carries on without your input, as she's been doing a good chunk of the night, "But one day I tried checking in with him and he sent me a Snap of him with Roxy like 'hashtag science pals'. It was weird."

"Well at least he's getting out, right?"

"Well," she says, resting her chin on your chest, "he's been in there for _weeks_ , bordering on _months_ and won't say a thing!"

Something familiar needles the back of your head. Somewhere in your brainmeats, there's a feeling like you're forgetting something. You cup Jade's cheek. The feeling remains. You kiss her forehead. It persists. She squints at you, like she thinks you're up to something. You want to know what it is you're failing to recall. She blows a raspberry into your neck and you forget what you've forgotten.

*

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 03:47 --   
TG: sup bro  
TG: i know we aint been like  
TG: keeping up and all that   
TG: in fact ill just go ahead and fess up that the weight of that most likely falls on me   
TG: im that guy that got this bitch of an earth build number c on my chiseled ass godlike shoulders  
TG: i accept the burden and the blame much like jesus but way humbler  
TG: i got your sins on my back like the great big dumbass globe and ill carry it with me until im inevitably crushed under the sheer weight  
TG: though im not sure what that means for this metaphor  
TG: yeah youre not up its almost four in the morning jesus im trash  
TG: me-sus im trash  
TG: nah lets stick with good ol fashioned historical jewish jesus  
TG: so to reiterate:  
TG: jesus im trash  
TG: i cant bear this hefty load lord i apologize for that one right there  
TG: but you know who probably could  
TG: janes dad like good god that man has some muscle to him  
TG: karkat showed me this video where like hes lifting up the couch in their house with one hand like nbd and hes vacuuming under it and the gently back down it goes like that shit was made of belly button lint or something  
TG: ripped af  
TG: #goals  
TG: #dadgoals  
TG: #daddygoals  
TG: cool i made it weird so lemme hop offa here and   
TG: beat myself over the head with a brick or something  
TG: realtalk tho i miss you and we should hang soon  
TG: get some real bro to bro bonding moments goin  
TG: jesus its been  
TG: more than a year since i seen you  
TG: fuck time flies dont it  
TG: well for me its more like going by at a rate i am almost never not aware of at one second per second unless im bored  
TG: have you like gotten taller btw because im not shittin you i think i had another growth spurt like wtf body you done yet  
TG: 21 goddamn years old and here i am at a nigh-gangly six foot   
TG: oh my god what if you got even taller  
TG: can you get a full mustache going yet or are you kinda just keepin it clean like your pops  
TG: aint gonna lie im pretty scruffy  
TG: but i cant grow like a filled in beard so i just look like ive spent two months in a cave eating rocks  
TG: yeah youre probably getting notifs off the chain rn   
TG: whenever you inevitably wake up let me know  
TG: ill probably be awake  
TG: i spent some time with jade but she went home and ill go ahead and just say that its been a bit of a shitty time in the strider apartment take two  
TG: i don't even know if you knew i moved in with dirk  
TG: we made a dupe of our old apartment and just added an extra room for me  
TG: he was kinda adamant about having the bedroom i had but like it was the same room you feel me so we flipped a coin and i lost so ive got this jank ass room that shouldnt belong but its all gucci  
TG: but yeah he wanted to spend more time working and i had like  
TG: this stupid fight with karkat so we havent been talking much and its also my fault and blows  
TG: can you see the common denominator here  
TG: its me in case you failed math  
TG: are you even good at math  
TG: like weve been bros for  
TG: fuck  
TG: eleven years  
TG: and i dont know if youre good at fucking math see im the worst  
TG: anyway  
TG: karkat and me had the not-a-breakup fight where we both were like yeah lets get some space and leave each other be  
TG: cause i mean we spent every day together on that meteor basically  
TG: and every day here together up until that point  
TG: and sometimes you get tired of seeing somebodys face  
TG: but between you and me im a fool   
TG: tell no one  
TG: swear to me  
TG: ill take you sleeping silence as an agreement  
TG: also like  
TG: theres this other thing on my mind lately but id rather talk with you about that face to face cause its  
TG: boy howdy what a doozy  
TG: yeehaw how wild  
TG: and that shit has me fucked up in eight ways  
TG: so whenever you uh  
TG: wake up or log on or whatever   
TG: drop me a line  
TG: love you bro  
TG: take care   
EB: not so fast, mr. cool guy.  
EB: i was talking to my dad, didn't even see you were spamming me!  
EB: it's gonna take me a while to slosh through that brb   
TG: youre good tyt  
TG: ive never been known to be so succinct and precise like hemingway  
TG: more like belligerent and wordy  
TG: like irl hemingway   
EB: whoa, i had no idea you were so fluent in the classics, dave!   
TG: i gotta a big brain of knowledge  
TG: damn near useless but definitely stored up in this noggin   
EB: yeah whatever, wise guy.  
EB: you thought mark twain was a shitty underground knitting rapper, and you know it.   
TG: what are you even referencing here  
TG: are you bringing up like  
TG: ironic and shitty jokes from ten years ago  
TG: john egbert i never took you for one of those petty remembering every single shitty detail types but now i see what youre all about   
EB: :D  
EB: how's things with your bro?   
TG: bro im like  
TG: collecting bros like gashapon   
TG: which bro are we talkin about  
TG: dirk  
TG: karkat  
TG: you  
TG: the mayor  
TG: that one white carapacian on the pumpkin cooking show   
EB: pbbt. no, like. your bro.  
EB: the bro you knew and loved and grew up under the puppet reign of.  
EB: the hilariously awful fashion sense.  
EB: the sicknasty rhymes!  
EB: are things all good on that front?  
EB: is it going well?

Your hands are trembling. Every fiber in you recoils. You have to take a couple deep breaths and walk around your room a few minutes before you can even look at the computer again. Did this motherfucker. This bastard. This taintsniffing nookgobbler. The anxiety and your anger are warring, and everything in your stomach you've managed to eat is threatening to come back up with this revelation. Moisture welling up in your eyes, fingers still shaking, you reply slowly. Tying to force out each keystroke and still make it comprehensible.

TG: john  
TG: what  
TG: did  
TG: you  
TG: do    
EB: uh.   
EB: it was an accident?  
EB: and also it's  
EB: it's a really loooooooong story.    
TG: well  
TG: you know me  
TG: i got plenty of fucking time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> goodness the formatting was giving me a migraine holy shit. anyway, hope you enjoyed! still more to come!


	4. Chapter 4

EB: first things first, i didn't actually mean to even resurrect bro at all.  
EB: not right away, like, i thought i could just get away with doing what i wanted and patting myself on the back for a job well done but  
EB: it didn't work like that, though   
EB: but i'm happy with how things turned out  
EB: i dunno if you know, cause we didn't exactly talk a lot in the past couple years, but i was going through some pretty unsavory feelings. some real gross down in the dumps blues.  
EB: i can hear you wondering "but john you saved the whole world best bro, we made something beautiful together look at this creation we've been so glad to have with your efforts bro i love you dudebro"  
TG: is that what you think i sound like  
EB: absolutely, why wouldn't that be what you sound like?  
EB: anyway!  
EB: so i took some time and was kinda empty? stayed in my house a lot. didn't do much outside. got to the point where i was getting petty outta shape too.  
EB: couldn't for the life of me get a grip.  
EB: and one day, i was like "you know who would have the answer to all this badfeel bullshit?"  
EB: "my dad!"  
EB: but jane's dad isn't my dad, you know?  
EB: and mr crocker's great and all, but he's not MY dad  
EB: so i started poking around. brushing up on the extent of my powers.  
EB: chatted some with jane.  
EB: and roxy.  
EB: and i'll spare you the specifics, but eventually it was looking bleak again.   
EB: jane didn't think it was--  
EB: how did she put it  
EB: oh, she thought it was "downright unethical" or something silly like that.  
EB: (i think she might've had some kinda churchy upbringing with her dad or something)  
TG: is there something wrong with that  
EB: not that there's anything wrong with that!  
EB: but at this point, we've seen what happens in the session. the monotheistic god deal is a moot point by now.  
TG: religion =/= morals  
EB: oh come on dave! don't tell me you believe in a magic space fairy! we have literally seen our world destroyed and come out the other side!  
TG: and after you rubbed your hands like an cartoon villain and muttered that youll show her  
TG: what happened  
EB: roxy and i put our heads together  
EB: she wanted a cut of the deal if we were able to get her mom person back to life  
EB: even though she didn't exactly die in the session.   
EB: so it was kind of hard to go off of.  
EB: at first we ended up just kinda accidentally making a baby clone of jane's dad, but that wasn't right.  
EB: he's not even the same guy, genetically speaking!  
EB: and then more baby clone shenanigans happened  
EB: kind of a blur, if im honest!  
EB: but don't worry. we made sure to get them swiftly to other families who needed them.  
TG: im not raising illegitimate clones of myself just a heads up  
TG: no adopting some poor bastard who didnt even asked to be duped in the first place  
EB: they're all gone and properly homed, not even a worry to be had!  
EB: besides it was more like  
EB: another rose and another dirk and that kinda thing  
EB: we did a lot of trial end error and eventually roxy had the idea to talk to callie.  
EB: she's super nice, by the way.  
TG: ill take your word  
EB: oh that's right, you haven't really been out and about being a social fella.   
TG: you talked to callie  
EB: right, we talked to callie and she was like   
EB: "i can't raise the dead, what"  
EB: but duh, of course she can't.  
EB: jane was more equipped for it but she bowed out.  
EB: but then roxy got the idea of not resurrecting the dead,   
EB: but summoning them!  
TG: some fuckin accio dead body type shit  
EB: kind of  
EB: but leaps and bounds more convoluted  
EB: she tried really hard, though!  
EB: and kept pulling dead bodies out of the void  
EB: ... a LOT of dead bodies out of the void  
EB: heaps and heaps and heaps of dead bodies out of the void  
EB: i kinda whoosh'd em outta the lab and we kept trying  
EB: and eventually we realized that summoning the body wasn't the hard part it was the soul  
EB: and i took some trying but eventually  
EB: we did it.  
EB: my dad was back.   
TG: congratulations  
TG: how did this turn into resurrecting my fuckin bro  
EB: im getting there!  
EB: there's not much left to the story, i guess.   
EB: pulling a soul out of the void put roxy out a while, though, so we had to wait to try again with anyone else.   
EB: and in the meantime me and dad renovated the house!  
EB: we built a DECK, dave, can you believe it??  
EB: im climbing the echeladder of manhood one dadrung at a time  
TG: yeah thats dandy  
TG: once again   
EB: hold your horses, yeesh. i'm back on track.  
EB: so roxy rested up and i spent time with my dad and i started thinking about all my friends and how i hadn't really seen them in a while.   
EB: and i talked to jade some about how things were going with you and she said you were taking a break from your weird polygamy thing and had kinda shut off from everybody  
EB: and i thought that seeing bro again might cheer you up!  
EB: so after roxy spent some time resting and i was building a deck with dad, we tried again a few weeks ago.  
EB: and after we got bro, we gave him your number and your handle and got him fitted with a place and stuff.   
EB: we weren't gonna just put this modern frankenstein to the street! that would be crazy  
EB: i'll be honest, he was hands down the coolest guy i've ever seen almost-naked  
EB: no homo :p  
TG: theres about seventeen things wrong with most of what you said there and im steaming so let me just take it bit by bit  
TG: frankenstein was the doctor  
TG: it isnt polygamy john you ignorant slut  
TG: suffix -gamy refers to marriage  
TG: only people married in our circle is rose and kanaya and like fuck am i about to marry anyone right now after the shit thats been going down  
TG: dont you ever tell me how cool my bro is   
TG: his name is also decidedly NOT bro  
TG: its dirk  
TG: if we were within proximity i would absolutely not hesitate to pull your underwear over your head like some shitty bully in a middle school flick  
TG: "no homo" are you serious   
EB: it was a joke, dave.  
TG: haha good one my bad /s  
TG: now that ive gotten those outta my system lets take a couple more minutes to just dissect a couple of these hot takes and questions i got brewing  
TG: number one: are you working on another resurrection as we speak  
TG: number two: why would you ever think it was a good idea to keep this from me  
TG: number three: how fucking dare you honestly   
EB: uhhhh, well  
EB: one, yes; two, i wanted you to be surprised; three, are you mad at me  
EB: because i'm sensing some tension here  
TG: i got my pinkie hovering the caps lock  
EB: oh no  
TG: oh yes  
TG: better hold onto your ass cause im flipping my lid so hard that shit qualifies for the earth c olympic gymnastics freestyle  
TG: im hitting some unknown levels of rage i dont think theyve created words or concepts for yet  
TG: im the first sentient being whose upset cannot be categorized by anything other than the ricochet vibrations of the fucking universe like some kind of spiritual and emotive grand scale pinball  
EB: but why?  
EB: i thought youd wanna see your bro again.  
TG: i dont think this is the conversation i wanna have with you right now  
TG: go to bed or whatever you were trying to do a while ago  
TG: i need some space  
EB: can i make a dad pun.  
TG: i appreciate you asking john but right now please fuck off  
EB: you got it.  
EB: when you wanna have that heart-to-heart, say word!  
\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 04:31 --

*

On the roof, not even five in the morning, you're taking on one of Dirk's generic training brobots. Your stance is shit. Your muscles are weak. The only thing you really have going for you is adrenaline, and even that isn't stopping the bot from lobbing a heavy fist in your direction and colliding with your sternum. 

Dealing with your problems head-on is something you're still working toward. But this menagerie of fear, rage, betrayal, hurt, and a bunch of shit you can't get your head around has your hands shaking and your vision useless. When you find yourself on the gravel of the roof, you push yourself back up, sword in too clumsy a position, but you go for the blow anyway. 

You falter, back into the gravel. The knee of your sweatpants tears. You kind of hope that you managed to negate the kill setting when you were fumbling with the bot to set it up. Oh well. Maybe you've still got side-effect godtier conditional immortality. Your sword comes over your head automatically to protect you from a metal limb. 

John had good intentions. You tell yourself that a couple times. You'd say it out loud, but there's no reason anyone should be speaking before sunrise. This is your own fault for not hashing out your situation vis-à-vis Bro, putting all your cards on the friendship table, and letting everyone take a gander into your noggin. Sure, you managed it with Rose, but she kinda figured all that out without you saying anything and gave you a hug when your dumb ass caught up. And you've jammed it out with Karkat and Jade on separate occasions. Hell, you even talked to Terezi about the it on the meteor once, even if it wasn't super in depth. And since meeting Dirk, you've discussed at length the traumatic fuckery that was your upbringing, and how it should be avoided treading into on accident. 

So yeah, your fault for not finding the time to sit John down and tell him things were not so hunky dory, and your fault for not leading him away from the idea of trying to put a soul back inside a body that you found dead and should've stayed dead.

The bot knocks you on your ass again. You fail to push yourself up in time to miss another good wallop, left ear ringing. May as well keep laying there. Maybe if it bludgeons you to death with its scrap fists, you won't have to keep feeling like shit or sort your feelings out.

"Couldn't sleep?"

With your cheek still to the pavement, you grumble in the negative. Dirk can be heard powering down the bot. 

"I got a sleep elixir in my room if you're hankerin' for opportune drowsiness."

His footsteps lead away, hauling the chassis back to the pile to be dealt with later. Dirk's socks come into view. He sits cross-legged where you can see him, tilts his head.

"Though, I mean. Your sleep schedule's pretty jank as it is. And I gotta say, that's definitely somethin' coming from me."

A long, drawn-out sigh. Your blood's still drumming in your ears. For a minute or so longer, you keep laying there, content to be silent. Dirk doesn't push you to get up. Doesn't rub your face against the rooftop and emphasize that you're totally dead. Sure as hell doesn't toss Lil Cal in your direction to get you tangled in a shitty puppet hug. 

You're pulling breath in slowly, pulling awareness to each limb in turn. Right arm curled under you. Left loosely gripping your sword. Ear to the ground. Hipbone uncomfortable. Right leg outstretched. Left leg hiked like some shitty Rob Liefeld dramatic pose. Shades bent a little on your face, digging in. When you've done your rounds through your body, you focus on breathing slow enough to drag your heart rate down to a nice and easy 60bpm. Second for second, beat for beat. You reopen your eyes, looking over at Dirk. "Did you ever get a development on the Bro situation."

He doesn't lie to your face. Just not part of his nature. But while you're a firm believer that lying by omission counts, he doesn't seem to understand the concept. He doesn't look at you, turning his head instead to say, "Depends on what you mean by development."

"I mean--" You flip onto your back now instead. "--Did you ever find out where he's staying? Did he ever come back? Have there been any other threatening displays of just. Bro?"

There's a pause, and you wouldn't have noticed it if you weren't hyperfocused on the beats between the cadence of your conversation. Usually you keep in step with each other, but Dirk takes a quarter second too long to respond. 

"If he's anything like me, he's got his set-up situated so that it can't be traced back. Haven't seen him on the security footage, either. You'd have to determine any threatening behavior; he doesn't scare me."

And finally, you're sitting up. Stowing your sword. "I'm not scared of him, either."

He looks at you.

"...what?"

"Nothin', bro."

"I'm not."

"I'm didn't say you were. Was just sayin' I ain't." Dirk pushes himself up. Offers his hand to get you up as well. "I'll admit, I'm not exactly fond of the guy. But I'm not emotionally invested in him any more than I am in dissecting my personality. Which at this point is old hat. I'm moving onto bigger and better."

"Glad to know you're growing as a person, bro," you mutter, heading back down the stairs to your apartment, Dirk following behind and locking up behind you. 

*

\-- turntechGodhead  [TG] began pestering grimAuxiliatrix  [GA] at 13:12 --  
TG: whats good sis in law / ex moirail in law  
TG: im almost 100% thats how that works  
GA: I Am Not So Sure Thats How Anything Works But Then Again Moirallegiance Is Not A Legal Concept  
GA: It Still Rather Baffles Me That Your Human Matespritship Ritual Requires Officiation By Institutional Council  
TG: you cant tell me troll weddings dont exist  
TG: how the hell did you know you wanted to have a wedding for fucks sake  
TG: did rose just ask you to marry her and you nodded vacantly because it made her smile  
GA: I Would Like To Invoke My Rights Of This World To Not Divulge Such Intimate Secrets  
TG: my god youre both obstinate  
TG: like two paradoxical ethereal beings that by some universal chaos bs found each other and called dibs  
TG: made for each other id say  
TG: kanaya did you create rose in your image y/y  
GA: Dave Did You Need Something  
GA: Its Been A While Since We Talked And Rose Has Mentioned Youve Been Avoiding Dealing With A Certain High Stress Topic I Have Been Forbidden To Speak Of  
GA: Which Is Not The One Involving Karkat But I Am Also Supposed To Avoid That Discussion Apparently   
GA: Although As His Moirail I Will Say That I Am Not So Approving Of Your Actions  
GA: But As Your Familial Relation By Marriage Celebration I Assume I Must Begrudgingly Keep It On The Underground  
TG: and youre doing a fantastic job at that  
TG: look do you want the truth  
TG: about karkat  
TG: because im feeling pretty generous with information at the moment  
TG: im having the inverse of a mental breakdown at this point tbh  
TG: approaching serenity and pure aplomb as i learn to accept that i cant trust anyone  
TG: and that my life is a series of serious locomotive pileups one after the other on and on   
TG: a real thomas the tank engine orgy of destruction and disorder  
TG: like the end scene of fight club where toxic masculinity destroys an entire city and maybe even the entire world  
TG: i may as well keep blabbering on about every deep dark secret ive ever held onto now because life is short and nothing is impossible  
TG: go ahead   
TG: ask me about karkat  
TG: allow me to divulge such intimate tales for you  
TG: ill even come over for tea just to spill it  
GA: I Dont Think Ruining Things With Scalding Leaf Fluid Would Be So Wise  
GA: We Dont Have A Scouring Stick At The Moment And Cleaning Floors Sometimes Makes Rose Anxious  
TG: rose  
TG: anxious  
TG: color me just a little surprised  
GA: What Color Would That Be  
TG: try hex #545513   
GA: Oh Thats An Unflattering Olive  
TG: thats the color of disgruntled surprise  
GA: Might I Make A Suggestion  
TG: sure  
GA: #F47c47  
TG: cool is this just unflattering shade throwing hour  
GA: I Would Say Unflattering Hue Tossing Hour Is A Bit More Appropriate  
GA: But Whatever Utilizes Buoyancy To Your Water Vessel  
TG: anyway  
GA: Yes Anyway  
GA: Is This The Part Where I Interrogate You So You Might Engage In Self Flagellation   
TG: scuse me but any and all discussions of flagellation will be punished hereon   
TG: what i do on my own times is my business  
GA: So Long As You Flagellate On Your Own Time And Not On My Husktop Screen  
TG: deal  
GA: I Am Too Tired For Anger  
GA: Can This Be An Interview Instead  
GA: Much As Id Love To Give You Flagellation Fodder  
TG: yeah fire away ill restrain myself from busting a nut   
GA: Legumes Are Unpleasant And My Gander Bulbs Thank You  
GA: Was Your Breaking Of Your Matesritship With Karkat An Act Of Selfishness Or An Act Of Impetuous Stupidity Or Perhaps Both  
TG: if those are my only options id say selflessness is the one closest in line with how i felt at the time  
GA: Read That Once More If You Would  
TG: oh you were being an asshole my bad i am getting to be immune to it at this point and maybe assumed the best in someone like a fool  
TG: you know what happens to those who assume  
GA: A Swift And Merciful Culling To Spare Those Around From Having To Witness Your Further Shame  
TG: hey kanaya youre hitting a lot of sick burns tonight and im just gonna need you to slow down  
TG: try not to waste all this good material  
GA: Do You Know The State He Was In For Weeks  
GA: I Should Think You Do Not As You Turned Rumplimb And Disappeared  
TG: i was going through some shit and didnt want to put him through that as well  
TG: theres some downright nasty things living in my brain  
TG: hijacking every now and again and bringing in the doom and gloom   
TG: and he hyperemathizes whether he admits it or not  
TG: so i wanted to spare him that  
TG: lo and behold this only made things worse  
GA: Why Did You Not Also End Your Matespritship With Jade  
TG: who the hell says i didnt  
TG: she just got that i needed some space that wasnt her  
TG: and that conversation was that and i moved the hell on without any problems on that side  
TG: karkat wanted to argue  
TG: cause thats kinda his whole schtick   
TG: and he refused to accept my proposal to unmatesprit the whole thing  
TG: saying we could work things out and it would be just fine  
TG: i just wanted to be left alone  
TG: why isnt that an option i have  
TG: tell me like when you and rose get sick of each other do you just keep sticking it out cause youre married  
GA: We Tend To Address Things In The Moment Rather Than Letting It Culminate And Build Negative Feelings Along The Way  
GA: And If One Of Us Needs Time Alone We Dont Heroically Try To Spare Feelings By Divorcing  
GA: There Is No Need For That  
GA: Time Alone Is One Thing Dave  
GA: Wallowing In Your Own Misery And Pity Is Another  
GA: And While It Crosses My Mind That You Did Not Have A Strong Emotional Upbringing Perhaps You Could Find A More Ambiguous Alternative From Spending All Of Your Time And Investment In Your Relationships And Or None Of Your Time And Investment In Your Relationships To Maybe Oh I Dont Know Clear Communication Of Your Own Needs To Those Whose Needs Include Reasonable Explanation As To Why You Feel It Necessary To Run Away When Things Are Too Stressful  
GA: As Far As How You Dealt With The Situation I Give You Exactly Ten Stars Out Of Ten Stars Possible For Possibly The Absolute Worst Way You Could Have Dealt With It  
GA: Congratulations On Your High Accolade  
GA: Your Stides In The Field Will Be Remembered Most Infamously In Sweeps To Come  
TG: you know what  
TG: i deserved that  
GA: You Bet You Deserve It  
GA: And Thus Ends Your Attempt At Giving Yourself Pity  
GA: This Is No Time For A Soiree Of Such Dismal And Disappointing Quality   
GA: Karkat Spent A Full Week In My Recuperacoon   
GA: While Human Bedding Can Be Very Lovely And Comfortable For Temporary Cuddling And Naps It Is Hardly For The Long Term Especially When You Would Have Access To Aforementioned Sleeping Solutions Had Your Moirail Not Been Snoring In A Vegetative Stasis  
GA: I Finally Helped Him Out And A Seventeen Hour Marathon Of Your Human Romcoms Helped Things A Bit  
GA: Ive Managed To Indulge Him At A Weekly Rate Of Pile Time At This Point However So I Think Hes Doing Much Better By Comparison  
GA: Though When You Tried To Contact Him Recently He Did Require A Bit More Attention Than Usual   
GA: Dave Youve Been Being Very Quiet  
GA: I Feel I May Have Been Too Harsh  
GA: Allow Me To Express My Apologies With Regard To Overwhelming Your Fragile Human Feelings   
GA: I Will Not However Apologize For Saying Such Things And I Will Stop Being Kanaya For A Moment If Youll Allow Me To Be Frank And Admit That I Think You Deserve To Hear Something Upsetting To Deter You From Following This Course Of Actions In The Future  
GA: I Am Kanaya Again Thank You For Your Allowing Of Personality Divergence   
TG: no prob bob  
GA: Haha That Is A Good One  
GA: But As Ive Said I Am Kanaya Once More  
TG: if youre kanaya can i be real  
GA: That Has Many Implications And Potential For Punnery  
GA: I Shall Allow It  
TG: cool  
TG: thanks for this  
TG: the whole calling me out on my bullshit thing was pretty solid of you  
TG: i feel like everybody around me is walking on eggshells trying not to set me off or something like im some kinda bubble boy liable to pop any second  
TG: and its getting real tedious and tiresome  
TG: cause if i act outside of how its expected of me its just gonna get worse  
TG: im not completely hopeless over here like i took a shower and brushed my teeth today even managed two meals so far like   
GA: That Is An Incredible Accomplishment  
GA: Allow Yourself A Moment To Relish This   
GA: That Is What Rose Says  
GA: I Was Not Going To Interrupt Because I Saw You Were Typing  
TG: oh cool shes reading over your shoulder  
TG: couldve said something sooner  
TG: thanks rose   
GA: She Says You Are Most Welcome  
GA: I Say You Might Continue Until You Reach A Point Of Apology  
TG: im sorry you had to deal with the fallout from me being avoidant   
GA: And  
TG: and what  
GA: And What Else  
TG: uh  
TG: im sorry that karkat took your recuperacoon  
GA: No Dave What Are You Going To Do To Fix It  
TG: are we talking about your problem or are we talking about like  
GA: What Are You Going To Do To Prevent This From Happening Again   
TG: well i dont know yet  
TG: but ill figure something out  
TG: ill make it right   
TG: i gotta find out what order to get all this shit dealt with in so i can best knock these tasks out as efficiently as possible without losing my fucking mind  
GA: I Genuinely Wish You The Best Of Luck  
TG: thanks kanaya  
GA: You Are Welcome  
GA: Thank You For Apologizing   
GA: I Might See What I Can Do To Sway My Moirail To Remove Your Block So You Might Make Efforts At Rebuilding Your Charred And Dilapidated Crossing Trestle   
GA: In The Meantime  
GA: Rose Says She Thinks You Should Take A Nap  
TG: yeah shes probably right  
GA: She Also Says Youve Been Online And Active For The Past Twenty Six Hours  
GA: That Is Far Too Much Dave  
TG: yeah yeah im off to bed  
GA: You Are Loved  
GA: Please Remember This  
TG: thanks rose  
GA: No That Was Me Kanaya Again  
GA: I Am Capable Of Complex Emotions Like Platonic And Familial Love  
GA: Like A Lusus To A Wiggler  
TG: speakin of  
TG: hows that whole gestational thing going  
GA: I Am Afraid Rose Requires My Assistance With Something That Requires Me To Avoid Your Question And Walk Away From My Husktop  
GA: Goodnap Dave  
TG: night kanaya

*

\-- turntechGodhead  [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist  [EB] at 14:01 --  
TG: hey im sorry about blowing up at you earlier  
TG: i gotta ask a favor   
TG: you said you set bro up with a place to live  
TG: where exactly was that at

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! More to come!


	5. Chapter 5

Everything in you regrets coming. You stand facing the door, and you have been for the past fourteen minutes. Something has stuttered and stalled in your brain, preventing you from moving your arm to knock. Or even from sending a text instead. Inside, you can hear the TV. It's an anime you've seen before, you're pretty sure. Or you're just solidly in your own bias that you would believe that even if you'd never seen or heard it.

But you flew out here for a reason. You have to try. You have to make the effort. This is on your terms. You can pull the ripcord whenever. Deuce out of the timeline and restart from here in an emergency. You wish you knew what was coming.

Before you can start trying to reason with your limbs, the door opens. Now you're really paralyzed.

He looks the same age as when he died. Like the last few years didn't exist for him. Makes sense. Guy was pretty dead for a while. He's not quite as tall as you are, though. And that's definitely throwing you. He's holding a trash bag, because you've interrupted his bringing it out.

You both stand in silence.

Then you notice the blood all over his shirt. A hole at the belly, but only in the shirt. Tanned skin underneath unblemished.

"...We gonna sit here'n gawk all day, or you gonna move. Shit's drippin."

Without even a thought, you side step. He shifts past you without touching, along to the trash chute, but you don’t see him reach it. Bro's back in the doorway in a literal flash. Holding the door open for you. Blank faced as ever, wearing his shades.

Your body moves on its own accord, crossing the threshold. Your tongue feels fat in your mouth.

"Welcome to the crib. Thirsty?"

Though you feel like you're completely out of sync of your body, your mouth responds, barely above a mutter, "Nah."

"Aight. Suit yourself." He leans in the kitchenette. Staring into you. Through you. Like he knows you're barely keeping your cool.

Another gay baby is born in the awkward pause.

"I ain't good at this talkin shit. But you're kinda killing me with the silent treatment. Ain't like you, anyway."

You want to tell him that he doesn't know what is or isn't like you. He never really did. You want to look him in the eye and tell him you wish he were still dead. He doesn't belong here. You want to punch him in his face until you feel he's had enough. He deserves to understand the hurt.

"Don't even know where to start," is what you actually say. And you watch him relax at the shoulders just a bit. Is he nervous? You've never seen him nervous.

Your bro snorts. It feels condescending. You're probably reading too far into. "Yeah, beats me, kid. Like I said, I ain't good at the whole talkin thing."

And that clicks something in your head, the gears almost audibly starting their turn. You look down at the carpet, the faint blood stains he didn’t completely get up yet. "What do we need to discuss?"

"Chrissake, willya just look at me. I can't hear you."

Something about the edge in his voice is fucking you up. Shorting you out. Your jaw tightens. The starting of a tension headache blossoms. You pick your face up from the floor, staring at the red on his shirt instead of meeting his eyes.

"You been blowing my shit up. Saying we needed to talk. What's there to talk about."

"I stopped blowin your shit up, for the record."

"I appreciate it. But here I am."

" 'n I 'preciate that." He glanced down at himself, as though he's just realized what he's wearing. "Can't remember what it was specifically. Been about a month. The panics kinda worn off."

Bro? Panicking? Bullshit. You hope your expression conveys this. Eyebrow raised. He turns around, plucks a knife from a block on the counter. Long and sharp. If he tilted it lower, you could probably see your reflection. You take a step back, sword in your hand before you notice its weight

Bro keeps his back to you. "You wanna know what happens when you die, Dave. I mean really die. Not game-over yourself into the dream bubble."

You don’t wanna know. The fact that he’s using your name at all gives you goosebumps. The sword comes up, feet spreading to take the defensive if he tries any stupid shit. The flat of your blade moves enough to for you to realize you’re shaking, and you tighten your grip. You watch Bro twirl the knife in his fingers.

"Nothin’. Nothin’ happens. Completely unlike anything you ever will experience while you’re still kickin’. Ain't no Heaven and Hell and all that. Just almost impossible to comprehend. You just _ain't_ anymore.." The knife taps the counter rhythmically, the tinny wobble in the tang a little more musical than the gravity of the situation.

You hate it.

"I'm not supposed to be here, bro. You know that."

You do, but this isn’t what this is about, right? For a long few moments, he ticks and taps the knife, to produce a beat. Eventually gets it built into something that you want to hear more of, and that kinda pisses you off. You can't take your eyes off the blade. It glints under the light above like it's winking at you. Soon, the beat peters out, Bro finally dropping the knife back in its slot and turns back to you, eyebrows going up in genuine surprise before falling back to cool blankness.

"Cute." There's something about his tone. Like he's just told a joke he knows isn't funny. The pause that follows has your hackles raising, and you settling further in your stance. He tilts his head at you, like he’s trying to figure you out. You must’ve learned a thing or two on your own after all, cause he’s never looked at you like that. But Dirk has.

You wait for him to draw his katana. He looks down at his watch.

“If you wanna spar for old time’s sake, we’re gonna have to get a move on. Jeopardy starts at six.”

*

The transition from standing in Bro’s living room to standing on the rooftop leaves something to be desired. You just remember being in one place, and now the other. This roof is not for sparring. It’s for gardening. As evident by the greenhouse and various planter boxes.

“You’ll have to go easy on me. M’a lil rusty.” He smirks at you, but there’s no mirth behind it. Not even something to indicate he’s enjoying what this is doing to you.

You haven’t let an expression cross your face since you showed up. And you don’t plan on starting. He won’t get the better of you. You don’t stretch to prep. You don’t think you could let your guard down if you tried. Even if you were drugged.

Bro takes his time stretching out, pulls his shirt over his head. Nothing you haven't seen before. Same scars. Same too-dark shoulders. Same shitty tattoos you could've sworn were done at your expense rather than in your honor. Showoff. Sure he’s been rotting away in the nothingness for a couple years, but he’s clearly fit as he was when he was on the Beat Mesa. When he took his own sword to the back shortly after that. It’s warfare, plain and simple. And you refuse to let it psych you out.

Instead, you wait. You don’t blink ahead. You don’t try and get a feel for the possible outcomes. You let the seconds, and eventually the minutes, tick and tock by. You don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you freaking out.

Finally, he’s in position. And had you not been on this unfamiliar terrain with the rooftop atrium, you might curl up and admit defeat just from the sight. The impending feeling in your belly that he’s about to seriously whoop your ass. He flexes his fingers, beckoning you.

What are you even doing here.

Your practicing with the bot the other night may have been a comically abysmal attempt at self destruction, but right now, in this moment, you remember everything the man before you drilled into your skull for thirteen years. Elbows in. Plant your feet. Look alive. He parries your first movement, and you almost lose your grip. You can hear the “watch your wrists” without him opening his mouth, and you let the sword be an extension of your arm with that.

It’s painstaking. The roof obstacles create a much more intimate space, and you’re almost always in reach of each other. He’s obviously had a bit more time up here than you have, but not as many hours as the two of you put in on the roof where you grew up. Where he laid you out every day. Burpees until you threw up. No days off, even when the heat index peaked over 120 and the soles of your sneakers started to gum up. You broke your ankle when you were ten, and you still had to be on the roof after you got home from the hospital. Every Christmas. Every birthday. Every.

Single.

Day.

He's not verbally taunting you or trying any dirty shit. Almost like he's playing fair. But you know better. There's something brewing. Something is wrong in the way he flashsteps around you, almost dancing away from your sword. He keeps getting just within your reach and grazing your sword with his own. He's making it apparent that he's wide open. He wants you to go for it. He's even built himself up a steady pattern in how he's moving around you, behind you. Right. Left. Right. Left. Up. Down. Up—

You connect.

More accurately, you impale.

You're too busy looking at where the sword is stuck in your bro, petrified. You don't notice that he's talking to you, hardly register anything at all until he's dropping his own sword to grab the pommel of yours and push it out.

"I'm sorry," your voice says, and your hands loosen off the sword, not wanting to hurt him more by pulling on it. "Fuck. Bro."

He's not crying out in agony. Only change in his breathing is the effort with which he's dislodging the sword from between his ribs, but he isn't wetly panting from a collapsed lung. He isn't gurgling as he continues to talk, and you think he's probably talking to you, but you aren't in any shape to be listening.

You wanted him to hurt, but you didn't wanna kill him. Fuck, you're tired of seeing blood. His blood. It's sticky on your fingers. It smells. And you're still frozen, not able to face him. Your sword is stained when it finally hits the cement. You're light headed and not getting better.

Bro steers you by your shirt downstairs. Doesn't seem to be having any trouble with the stairs, even after you gutted him. God, you didn't even mean to. It would be different if you were trying. He leads you along until you're back in the apartment.

You're sat on the toilet, like he would sit you when you were a kid. He takes both your hands and pours peroxide on them, even if it's not your blood. Wipes them clean. You hate the smell. He knows you hate the smell. He doesn't care. When he's done with you, he takes the same rag to himself, doused in peroxide. Cleans himself up.

"Personally, I think it's one of the universe's biggest ironies. Spend most of your life knowin' you're supposed to end up a martyr to inspire the successful continuation of existence. Wake up eight years later and you can't even fuckin' break a bone, let alone re-kill your damn self."

You finally allow yourself to look at his chest, now cleaned of blood. Not a scratch to be found. No indication that your sword went through him at all. And up at his face. He's got his shades off, cleaning them with a different cloth. It's been a long time since you've seen him without his shades. You don't know how to feel.

Bro catches you staring, giving you a glance before righting his shades. "Despite lookin' like you wanna go for seconds on trying to filet me, gotta say. Shaped up pretty good, bro. Your pal John got nothing but good things to say."

They talked? John and Bro talked to each other? About you? Knowing your Bro, it was probably more of John gushing and nervously chatting away and lots of Bro listening to every detail to be exploited later.

"C'mon. Couch's easier on the ass for long-term silence. Least that's been my experience." He tugs at the sleeve of your shirt, encouraging you on your feet. And up you get, if only to get him to stop touching you.

You notice when you sit on the sofa that there's a distinct lack of puppets around. No marionettes. Or smuppets. Weird anthro plushies. Just looks like a normal thirty something year old dude's place. Nary a grotesque sexual felt abomination to be seen. He's got a sweet PC setup, even better than the one Dirk has rigged at your place. Three monitors, cables neatly managed. Everything in its place. In fact, the entire living area is spotless. You don't think you've ever seen your Bro in such a tidy environment, let alone one he was meant to be living in. He has a framed photo of you on the TV stand. A printout from your Instagram, a photo you actually kinda liked. Now you'll never be able to enjoy it. Down the hall, there's a door open, and you can see a bed inside. He isn't sleeping on the couch, then. And it isn't a futon. Doesn't appear to be a sleeper sofa.

It's like he's been going through the motions of being an actual human being.

A bottle of water is pushed into your hand. Brandless, label peeled off. You should know better than to trust him with your beverages. This is like the apple juice factory anxiety all over again. But your body's screams for hydration outweigh your overthinking long enough for you to down the bottle. Behind you, there's a snap of a trash bag.

"Can't tell if you're moping cause you're disappointed you didn't pop a lung or feeling guilty it would've happened if I didn't have the most convenient immortal curse."

You're still on edge, crushing the water bottle in your hand and replacing the cap when it's compacted. Tossing it behind you, hearing it get caught instead of hitting the floor. Aces. "Neither, I don't think."

He continues fitting the trash bag into the can or whatever he's doing. "Feel free to fill me in when you figure it out. I'm always ready to learn more about your 'human' nature." It's entirely possible he's doing what Dirk tends to, telling a joke so deadpan that it sets up perfectly for Poe's law. But unfortunately, you have no context or gauge on him. You don't know if he's ever joked in a way you've understood.

"I just came to say that I didn't ask John to do this to you."

Bro seems to ruminate on this. Rounds the side of the couch to perch himself on the arm and take you in. "Yeah, you're not stupid. You already got a decent enough iteration of me not to need the original. I didn't figure you had a hand in it."

You watch his hands, fingers picking at the leather of his glove, worn at the seam on the knuckle of his thumb. You remember he used to bite his nails and it grossed you out. But his nails are neat. Surrounding skin unblemished save for calluses.

"I know it ain't something I ever been good at. But there's some real shit I think we should hash out."

"Like what," you say, pretty sure you know exactly what. And while you've made a couple leaps forward in this whole scenario, you don't think you're ready to talk heart-to-heart about how badly he fucked you up. Especially not when you're still shaken up from stabbing him. And sparring with him after so goddamn long.

He takes his shades off. Now a record-breaking twice in one day. He takes them off and lets them drop on the couch. Rubs his thumbs into his eyes like he does when he's got a migraine. You're annoyed that you once worshipped the ground he walked on to the point where you know that. You used to think you knew everything about him.

When he finally opens his mouth again, he sounds vacant, again. Just a little too empty. A shell of a person stuck with the functions of a living one. Like the words that follow aren't even registering in his own head. "I miss Lil Cal."

Your Bro confiding in you something like that probably shouldn't be getting your fight or flight reactivating. At this rate, you're going to just have a heart attack and drop dead on the floor. You force yourself to look at his face. To see what he's working with. His eyes are downcast, and you can see he's got almost-wrinkles at the corners of them. You’re not sure if they’ve always been there, but they must’ve.

"…he was an abomination," is all you say back. You’re goddamn terrible at providing comfort to him, and Rose would probably say he deserves it. Something deep in you still feels guilty about it.

“We tend to find comfort in familiarity. ‘Specially if it’s somethin’ like a constant voice in your head trying to guide you into your place in the grand scheme.” Bro undoes the velcro on his gloves. Takes them off. Flexes his fingers. “Ain’t never had to be alone before, really. Always had Cal. Then later I always had both of you.”

More guilt. Not just because of the retrospective ride Bro's trying to make you coast on with him. But because you're on your feet, now. You take a breath looking at the ceiling. 

"I should get going," you tell the overhead light.

Bro's quiet. He won't look at you either. Fuck, why do you even care about the consequences of your actions and how they relate to the emotional state of your vapid and complete dickhead of a former guardian. It's not like he feels remorse for the years of torment. He _misses_ the hell dummy, for fuck's sake. If that's not evidence that he's literally conspiring with the Devil, you're not sure what is. 

"…just a lot in a day, you feel me, Bro?" You tuck both hands in your pockets. The door's only a few steps away. Right past him. 

He nods but doesn't shift outta the way for you to pass. You're going to have to carefully choose each step so as not to get tripped or stopped. You peek ahead just enough for the ideal stepping pattern and follow it as such. One foot in front of the other, and you'll soon be home free. You'll be able to have a long talk with Rose about Bro's weirdness. To talk about just how much he still probably gives no fucks about you, as evidence by his care for Cal. It'll all be cool and kosher. You won't have to come back ever again if you don't want to. You've probably sated him and his desire to fuck with you. 

When your hand gets to the doorknob, you twist and pull, almost free when Bro says from behind you,

"I love you, Dave."

*

TT: And then what?    
TG: what do you mean and then what   
TT: I'd like you to know how tempted I am to write an entire dissertation about properly ending an anecdote.   
TT: Did anything else happen?    
TG: nah i left   
TT: You left.    
TG: yup   
TT: This is a very loaded and heavy admission from your Bro that I'm sure you've been anticipating for and desiring since youth.   
TT: And you left with it dangling in the air, a call with no response?  
TT: Like the saddest Isley Brothers performance that never was?    
TG: i even left my sword on the roof  
TG: which kinda blows cause now if i wanna have an emotional breakdown and attempt to murder some android ass on the roof of my own apartment like a grown ass man i have to borrow one of dirks  
TG: the sad price to pay for maintaining your stability    
TT: Forgive me, I'm still reeling in shock of the situation, full scope.   
TG: same tbh  
TT: Have you considered that perhaps he's being sincere?  
TT: Stop typing, I don't want to hear that it's impossible. I want you to think long and hard on it and consider that maybe this is just as difficult for him as it is for you.   
TG: and now hes the victim  
TG: great cool wow rose how progressive   
TG: do you think that while youre at it youll berate me for not saying i loved him back   
TG: or maybe even drag and or roast me for stabbing him if were gonna go the full poor woe is bro route  
TG: fuck that guy  
TG: he doesnt deserve your pity  
TG: or my love  
TT: Am I allowed to continue?   
TG: sure  
TT: I'm going to ignore most of your heated language about the subject, but rest assured, I don't disagree with you that he was not nearly a suitable parent for you.   
TT: And I understand what it's like to have a parent that you don't trust having loved you.   
TT: Can we talk about the complexity and duality of man without you clamoring for the kill if I were to say something less than damning of your Bro?   
TG: now youre making it seem like im being unreasonable  
TT: I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about this later?   
TG: no  
TT: Okay. Shall we continue now, then?   
TG: im listening  
TT: Thank you.   
TT: I don't think it's necessary for you to forgive him at all. Or to have a familial closeness. You could probably get away with cutting all contact and not necessarily being worse for it.   
TG: but  
TT: But you're still doing what you've always done with him.   
TT: Treating him as something lesser or greater than human. Recent development and mortality plot holes aside, he is just a person. Granted, he is not necessarily a GOOD person by most metrics and measures, but he's still human.   
TT: It can't be easy to go from sharing your thoughts with a parasitic Eldritch monstrosity encased in a form that would scare many a man shitless--even if it weren't somewhat sentient--and suddenly waking in a completely different world, without the comfort of even a baseline familiarity, ie your puppetmaster.   
TG: i dont care  
TG: and youre not gonna get me to care  
TG: if you wanna drop him a line and have a heart to heart and let him open up to you all lifetime movie special style where at the end you reveal that youre his long lost genetic daughter all along after hes tried to mack on you for the last half of the film  
TG: thats totally your prerogative  
TG: leave me out of it  
TT: I find this very hard to believe of your Bro. Since it appears we are both the wrong kind of gay for it to be compatible.   
TG: hes not gay  
TT: Are you being flippant about labels again?  
TG: no im telling you the man is probably smooth as a ken doll and has exactly zero emotions we normally expect of sentient creatures  
TG: and also lesser animals  
TG: therefore theres no way he could be waggling his brows in flirtation at anybody for that matter  
TT: You've ruined your own joke by trying to ruin mine.   
TT: This is a next level jokebotchx2combo, Dave. I'll be sure to put it in my notes.   
TG: whatever  
TT: I have some exciting news, though, if you'd like to take a moment away from your general angst and anguish.   
TT: Would you like to be privy to the most recent breakthrough the lab has seen to date?  
TG: this is about your alien wife isnt it  
TT: It is.   
TG: oh boy  
TT: We're still unsure of the timeframe, but from estimations, anywhere from three days from now to three years from now, you will be a brand new uncle.   
TG: congrats  
TG: does everybody know  
TT: Kanaya and I thought it best to keep it relatively quiet until we are sure things are developing smoothly.   
TT: We have a few names picked out as well.  
TG: here it comes  
TG: the worst baby names to come to fruition in the short existence of this planet  
TG: whatre you considering like cornelius herbert maryam-lalonde?  
TG: diqbut fartee maryam-lalonde?  
TT: Virginia and Elisha are both on the table for girls.   
TG: not terrible i guess  
TT: And Virgil and David for boys.   
TG: …  
TT: I hope you don't mind, of course.   
TT: It was actually Kanaya's idea. I mainly was going for plays on Virgo.   
TT: It's been ten full minutes, Dave. Are you alright?  
TT: Hello?  
TT: Thirteen minutes and counting. I'd like to assume you've fallen asleep, but the thought has crossed my mind that you may be dead from the shock.   
TT: I'll give you a few more minutes.   
TT: Is this what it feels like to be you? Always waiting on a response?  
TT: Goodness, the anxiety is starting to get at me.  
TT: Dave?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments! More to come! And a special thanks to Lispet for beta-ing this chapter. <>


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